


War of Hearts

by DarkAlpha67



Series: Moondust [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Are Twins, Alpha Laura Hale, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cousins Malia & Derek, Derek Hale is a Beta, Deviates From Canon, F/M, Hale and Argent history, Laura Hale is alive, M/M, Malia is a Hale, Mention of Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, References to Supernatural (TV), Stiles Stilinski is an Argent, Stiles is a hunter, Talia and Laura survived the Hale Fire, Unhappy Ending, the hale fire happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-10-20 16:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10666071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkAlpha67/pseuds/DarkAlpha67
Summary: Stiles Argent lost his mother brutally. Her death took a toll on him, his father and his twin sister Allison. Now, finally he has the chance to exact his revenge.Leaving France, Stiles and Chris move to Beacon Hills where their enemy lies and waits for them. Unaware of their plan.Now all Stiles has to do is gain the trust of the Hale Pack and not lose himself along the way.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I wrote this a while back and finally finished it. It's a short multi-chapter.
> 
> The prologue is very short because I want to see how you guys like it before I post the rest. 
> 
> I hope you like it and enjoy.

“This is your mark.”

Chris Argent placed a photograph on the table before them, sliding it over to Stiles. The honey eyed boy, looked from the blue eyed man to the photo. Stiles, with a calm, neutral expression reached out and took the photo, flipping it over.

He stared at it, memorizing every detail of the man’s face, burning it into his mind. The picture had been taken from reasonable distance, giving Stiles a clear profile of him. His dark hair, his muscular body, the old leather jacket and the murderous expression.

“This a recent picture?” Stiles asked as he looked up.

Chris nodded, giving his son a serious look. “With your sister staying with your aunt, this is your job Stiles.”

“I know the job, Dad.” Stiles insisted. “I know what I have to do.”

He glanced down at the photo again, his finger digging into it, bending the picture. He felt pure hatred bubbling from within, the flashes of his mother, his father, his sister going through his mind. The lifeless gaze of his mother, the cold stare of his father, the tearful glare of his sister.

Stiles looked up, his brown eyes locking with his father’s blue one. He saw the pain that roamed within. The pain that had taken root in all of them and never left.

“I promise you, Dad… He’s not going to get away with what he did.”


	2. Behind Enemy Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets his enemy

The sun was bright and the loud chaotic noise of the school parking lot barely drowned out Stiles’ jeep. The beautiful blue car that he got for his sixteenth birthday from his mom. At first, Stiles was skeptical, eyeing the keys when his mother handed it to him because the car had belonged to his mom _before_ she married his dad and the thought of what they did in that car… Well, let’s just say him and Allison washed the crap out the vehicle that very night.

Stiles shut the engine off and waited, looking around, taking in the smiling faces of every teenager. He watched as a boy rode past him on a green motorbike, parking near the school entrance and soon, a black Camaro and red Porsche followed him, parking a few spaces away.

The air shifted, and most of the students at Beacon Hills turned to eye them. Stiles narrowed his eyes and watched as the back and front doors of the black car opened.

A blonde stepped out from the back seat, and surveyed her surroundings, looking around and locking eyes with every male species looking in her direction. Decked in a pair of heels that would impale just about anything, tight leather pants, a deep blue corset and leather jacket she looked like the embodiment of a Succubus.

An African-American man in a leather jacket and simple jeans and white t-shirt, got out after her, wrapping his arm around her waist as he shut the door.

“Possessive.” Stiles muttered.

The blonde, however, didn’t seem to mind. She just tilted her head back and smiled at the boy.

Stiles turned his attention to the next boy that stepped out from the passenger side, whose tall and lanky frame towered over his friends. His curly blonde hair and chiselled features gave him an innocent look that not even the leather jacket he was wearing could hide away.

He smiled at the blonde and her boyfriend, all of them ignoring the stares of everyone in the parking lot.

And then finally, the driver’s side door opened and he stepped out.

Anger bubbled deep within him. Stiles sat up and ran his eyes over the tall man, burning holes into every inch of his profile. With sunglasses covering his eyes, he looked exactly like he did in the photograph. Black Leather jacket, black skinny jeans and what appears to be a red Henley.

_Derek Hale._

Stiles’ lips curled with disgust as he stared at the group of teenagers, or more specifically Derek’s Pack.

Groomed to take on the role of Second in Command for his sister, Laura Hale, Derek looked every bit the leader he was meant to be. With pack members he had accumulated himself from what information he gathered so far, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if the son of a bitch planned on taking the Alpha Status from his sister sometime in the future.

With that final thought, Stiles hopped out of the Jeep, locked the door and made his way slowly to the school entrance. He watched as Derek met up with an Abercrombie looking boy with his arm around a red head, who smiled at Derek and soon all six of them made their way over to the boy on the bike.

As he got closer to them, Stiles waited, keeping his eyes on Hale until hazel eyes looked around and locked with his. He wanted to glare, god help him, he wanted to express his hatred for the guy but instead he relaxed his posture and tugged his lips up into a smirk.

Nodding to Derek, he walked past the Pack, holding eye contact for as long as possible before he looked away and walked into The Beacon Hills High School building.

Getting his schedule was quicker than Stiles thought, so with his extra time he made his way down the hall. Satisfaction crawled through him as he spotted Scott McCall making his way right toward Stiles, seemingly lost in his own world.

Stiles looked down at his schedule, taking extra care to look at every door he passed until he felt his shoulder knock into Scott’s. The impact hurt and Stiles allowed his body to stumble and fall, dropping his schedule on the floor.

“Oh, shit. Dude, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Stiles let out a laugh. “No, you did.” He winced as he rolled his shoulders for good measure.

He moved to grab his schedule but Scott picked it up before he could, helping Stiles stand up.

“I’m sorry, really.”

Stiles smiled, taking in the puppy eyed werewolf before him. “Relax, dude. I hate to break it you but you don’t look like a bully.”

The crook-jawed boy smiled brightly at him. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

“Stiles.” He stretched out his hand for Scott to take.

A confused expression appeared on Scott’s face.

“Stiles?”

Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, it’s a nickname. My parents named me after one of our ancestors and let me tell you, his name is a thing of nightmares.”

Scott laughed and nodded before he looked down at Stiles’ schedule, missing the smirk that formed on Stiles’ face.

_So predictable._

“Oh, dude. We have like most of our classes together!”

“Really?” Stiles moved closer to Scott to look down at his schedule. “Huh, lucky me.”

Scott, handing Stiles his schedule, grinned at him. “I know right! We even have break together. You can totally come sit with me and my friends.”

“Uh,” Stiles stuttered, turning to look around for a moment. “I- don’t want to impose on you guys.”

“Dude, it’s fine. The more, the merrier, right?”

Giving Scott a hesitate look, Stiles slowly nodded his head. “Yeah, I guess. Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”

And just like that…

An instant in.

It didn’t take long for Stiles to connect with Scott. They had their love for video games and comic books in common. Spending most of the first few minutes in the classes they shared talking about it.

Stiles forced a smile and laughed with Scott. The werewolf seemed oblivious to the internal battle waging on in Stiles as he defended the reason as to why he had never watched Star Wars.

Soon the bell rang, and Stiles moved toward the lunch room with an apple in hand. Thankfully, he didn’t share the class before his lunch with Scott, so Stiles had time to think and plan before the lesson began.

Entering, Stiles looked around, taking in every rowdy table. As expected, every table presented the different groups that populated the school. He spotted the Jocks, as they sat on the chairs and tables, loudly talking to and over one another. The nerds, who sat quietly, speaking in hushed tones with each other. The Mathletes’, the Stoners… And there they were.

The one table that had the most diverse looking people you could ever see.

Three bad boys and a bad girl to even the score, a dopey looking boy (Scott), a sweet and innocent looking girl, Mr and Mrs. Perfect Couple and another girl that seemed to be in a heated discussion with Bad Girl.

“Stiles!” Scott screamed across the lunch room once he spotted Stiles.

With a nod and grin, Stiles made his way over to the table. He ignored the hard looks half the table was giving him, aside for Sweet Girl who was smiling and Unknown Girl who just looked disinterested.

“Hey.” Stiles mumbled when he reached them, looking at Scott nervously.

“It’s cool, dude.” Scott reassured him, as he stood up and moved to stand next to Stiles.

“Guys, this is Stiles. Stiles, this is “Boyd,” _Possessive Guy (Werewolf)_. “Erica,” _Blondie (Werewolf)_. “Malia,” _Unknown Girl (Were-coyote)_. “Isaac,” _Curly (Werewolf)._ “Jackson,” _Mr. Perfect Couple (Kamina turned Werewolf)._ “Lydia,” _Mrs. Perfect Couple (Banshee)_. “Kira,” _Sweet Girl (Kitsune)_. “And Derek.”

_Target._

Everyone at the table had their eyes on Stiles and though Stiles could care less what these people thought of him, he softened his facial expression, glanced at Scott before he looked down.

“Uh,” He cleared his throat nervously and turned to look at Scott. “Maybe, it’s best if I just go, you know, sit somewhere else.”

A hurt expression washed over Scott’s face before he turned to look at the people at the table. “Guys. Don’t be dicks. That’s Derek’s and Jackson’s job.”

“Watch it, Scott.” Said a deep voice.

Stiles’ eyes flickered to Hale who was glaring at Scott. As if sensing his stare, Hale’s eyes moved to Stiles. Hale held eye contact for a minute before he looked away disinterested.

“You should sit down, you’re attracting attention.” The red head, _Lydia_ , said as she looked down at her nails.

Scott turned to grin at Stiles, practically shoving him down onto his seat, right next to Hale. Stiles swallowed, feeling that familiar anger burning in his gut. His hand tightened around the apple and Stiles moved the apple toward his mouth. Sinking his teeth into the fruit, Stiles hoped it would dull the anger for just a while.

“So Stiles, tell us about yourself.” Kira said, shifting to give Scott room to sit. The werewolf smiled and wrapped an arm around her.

Stiles swallowed his apple before he answered. “Uh, there isn’t much to tell. I moved here a few months ago.”

“Where are you from?” She asked, placing her chin on her upturned hand as her smile widened.

“Uh, France.”

Lydia stopped examining her nails at her that and Stiles took another bite of his apple to hide his smirk. She looked up, narrowing her green eyes at him.

“You lived him France?” She asked slowly as if she didn’t believe him.

Stiles nodded, giving her a small smirk. “Yeah, I was born there actually. In Paris, to be more precise.”

Jackson rolled his eyes, and Stiles watches as his arm tightened around Lydia’s shoulder just a bit. Stiles deliberately looked down at his arm, where his fist was clenched.

Returning his eyes to Jackson, he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you don’t have worry about that, man.”

Jackson gave him a snobbish looks. “Excuse me?”

Stiles waves his apple toward Jackson and Lydia. “That. She’s not my type.”

The darkened glare he got from Jackson was expected. The blue eyed werewolf leaned forward, eyes blazing, but Isaac, who had moved with him, reached out an arm, pressing it against Jackson’s chest.

Stiles widened his eyes. “Oh, no! No, not like that!” He shook his head. “I just mean I’m not into her. She’s beautiful, there is no missing that but I’m just saying that… you are more my type, gender wise, than she is.”

And just like that, the girls all turned to look at him with a curious glint in their eyes. The guys also turned to look at him.

“That,” Stiles started, looking at them all, “that isn’t going to be a problem, right? Because if so, you all can go screw yourselves.”

“Down boy,” The blonde, _Erica_ , said from the other side of Stiles. Her brown eyes had a dangerous glint in them but her grin looked both mischievous and sweet. “We have no problem with that.”

“Yeah,” Malia added, a small frown playing on her face. “Derek is into guys too.”

A beat of silence fell over then as they all turned to look at the man next to Stiles. They all waited, holding their breath. Hale just continued to eat his sandwich, his lips circling at the corners as he chewed.

“Oh.” Stiles said.

Scott soon changed the subject, asking Stiles if he ever played Lacrosse to which Jackson had scoffed. Lydia and Kira seemed interested in France and his time there. They questioned him about his American accent and Stiles gave them a brief over view of his life, adding some truths and falsifying the rest.

Through all the idle chatter, a monologue kept playing in his head.

Stiles got in. He got in on the first day.

He hid his smirk behind his apple and when no one payed him no mind, he stole a glance to the one person who hasn’t said a word to him.

An overwhelming burst of satisfaction washed over him.

The guy had no idea what’s coming…


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets closer to his mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next Chapter. Big thanks to those who read and left Kudos, it meets a lot. :)

“Alright, remember to keep your feet apart.” Chris instructed.

Stiles sighed for tenth time, lowering his bow as he turned to give his father an annoyed look. Instruction after instruction had left his father’s mouth and while he understood a bow and arrow was not really his domain but more his sister’s, his father knew better than to judge his skill in any weaponry.

Hell, Stiles had mastered the crap out of a freaking Katana.

“Dad, this isn’t my first time shooting. Lay off me, okay?”

A small grin appeared on his father’s face, causing the corner of his eyes to wrinkle. He wore a fond expression and it forced Stiles to look away. Since his mom, everything around his family had turned awkward. Dad had Kate to lean on and Stiles had Allison but through it all, Chris Argent found it almost impossible to look at his children even though they told him they understood what he did and that they didn’t hate him.

There was an awkward silence between them. Stile pulled at the string of his bow, using it as a mean of distraction.

“So, how is it going with the Hale Pack?”

Stiles smirked. “Good. It’s been two weeks and they have opened up to me, a little. They still haven’t let me in on the secret, no surprise there but I’m sure that will change soon. And if it doesn’t, it would be better. No one would suspect anything from a kid who knew nothing about werewolves in the first place.”

Stiles had gained the trust of Scott and Boyd, the werewolves’ whose opinion Laura and Derek valued most. Scott was the first that Laura turned after she found him in the middle of the woods, blue faced in the midst of an asthma attack.

Boyd, though he had been the third to be turned, had gained his position as the packs’ voice of reason. Stiles had seen first-hand how his calm voice made everyone listen.

“And Derek Hale?”

Stiles paused and turned around to his father. “I’m getting there. The bastard is opening up but slowly… He’s guarded and the others know it so they provide a wall for him to hide behind. When I go after him… It will have to be when he least expects it. When his guard is down and that will take trust which will take time.”

“Okay.” Chris said, nodding towards Stiles. “I trust you will get the job done.”

“You don’t need to worry, Dad.” Stiles said.

He turned back to the look out in front of him. He reached back and pulled out an arrow from his quiver before notching it. He lined it open, raising the bow, feeling his muscles strain as he pulled the string back. He looked out in front of him, his eyes zooming in on the target far ahead.

He let go and watched as the arrow impaled in a sketched image of Derek Hale, right between his eyes.

 

*

 

Stiles bit his lips, staring at the board before him. Pictures of the Hale Pack and notes covered every inch. Pink strings connected Jackson and Lydia, Scott and Kira and Erica and Boyd.

The members of the Hale Pack that was in a romantic relationship.

After doing some research and asking Scott, who was more than willing to share, Stiles discovered Laura was in the a relationship with a guy that lived a few states over, which Stiles deduced was another Alpha from a different Pack. Scott informed him that Derek didn’t date and that the other members of the Hale Pack were too distrustful of strangers to even consider the idea.

Blue strings connected Derek and Laura, Derek and Malia and Derek and Talia. Familial relationships.

From what Stiles had gathered and witnessed, their pack bond was incredibly strong given how many supernatural creatures were in the pack. Derek Hale seemed overly cautious around his family, especially his sister.

Stiles turned around and looked down at the scattered files on his bed that contained information of all the Hale members, information his father had gathered. There was not a lot to work on but Stiles had worked with a lot less before.

He had read over everything. He had read up on their family history, going from cover to cover. He discovered that the Hale Pack was a matriarchal pack and that it had once been bigger. Three years ago a fire had killed almost all of them, aside the three last remaining Hale’s.

The report his dad had managed to obtain stated that the case had been ruled an accident. Something about that case didn’t sit well with Stiles and when he asked his father, he was simply told to focus on the task at hand.

There’s a knock on his door.

“Yeah?” Stiles called out, half distracted.

When he was met with silence Stiles forced his eyes away from the files and looked over to see his father leaning against his bedroom door with a proud smile on his face.

Chris Argent shook his head at his son and then his eyes flickered around his room. “You plan on cleaning this room up any time soon?”

“Yeah. Soon.” Stiles nodded.

His dad cocked his head to the side and then his attention was drawn the board Stiles had set up. “Impressive.”

As his dad made his way closer, Stiles turned to regard the board once more. It wasn’t surprising his father could make sense of the messy board. There were random sticky notes in short hand pasted everywhere but no matter how messy it was any Argent would be able to understand it.

“Yeah. I’m trying to find some link that can be manipulated. I mean, I have the relationships but that’s a no go. Familial bonds too. They all have some link. Orange is for trust and as you can see all of them trust Derek.” Stiles growled out. “I tried to think of a way I could get in but… I haven’t found anything yet.”

A strong hand clasped his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You’ll figure something out soon son.”

Stiles nodded, his eyes drawing the picture of Derek Hale. “Yeah, I hope so.”

 

*

 

The weather was awesome and as Stiles walked deeper into the woods, he could feel the tension leaving his body. The wind blew through his hair and against his face and he thought back on how he and Allison used to sit outside in the parks in Paris, when it was cold and how their parents hated the thought of bringing them outside. He remember how the cold made him feel, like he was alive and his body was in control. That no matter how strong the wind was or how cold the air was, he had the power to warm himself up.

Allison always told him he was the winter to her summer.

His combat boots picked up dirt and crushed the fallen leaves below his feet. He looks around him, remembering the land marks his father told him to look for to ensure he didn’t cross over to the Hale Property, regardless of the fact that all of Beacon Hills were technically their territory.

With his hands shoved deep into his red hoodie, Stiles made his down a small hill, following an invisible trail. He loved this, the quiet and the peace. His room was darkened by the mission, his house was a constant reminder of his mother.

Stiles continued on, until he came up to a clearing. There was a gap between two arched trees that were curved inward, creating some form of doorway. The tree trunks were larger than all the others but it is the claw marks embedded in the wood that prompted Stiles to move through it.

As he walked through, he was met by a beautiful view. Before his eyes was a large pond, that took up almost the entire area. The water was a beautiful green-blue, reflecting the sky above it. Stiles moved closer, listening to the birds in the nearby trees tweeting and chirping. The buzzing of the small swarm of insect’s blended in with the noises of the birds amazingly and for a second, Stiles’ thoughts drift toward his sister once more.

She would have loved a place like this.

Stiles glanced around and his eyes fell upon a small figure sitting further away, close to the water. He seemed to be hunched over something, his legs brought up as he looked down at something between them.

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he moved a little closer. He could feel the knife sheathed around his leg in his boot and it was both tempting and reassuring.

“Hey.” Stiles greeted when he reached him.

Green eyes flickered up before looking down once more and it’s then that Stiles noticed the butterfly he had balancing on his forefinger. He continued to stare at the insect before raising his arm up, letting the butterfly take off.

Derek didn’t say anything and Stiles took the chance that had presented itself. He moved to sit down, leaning back against his hands as he stared out in front of him.

“So… Uh, how’ve you-”

“Stop.” Derek cut him off sharply. “You don’t have to pretend, there is no one here to see it anyway.”

Stiles paused, his heart beat sped up as his head snapped toward Derek who still wasn’t looking at him. In a fit of panic Stiles started replaying everything in his head, rehashing every interaction he ever had with Derek to see where he went wrong.

Sure, he had been a little too friendly with the Beta but he was sure he played it down. He spoke only briefly and when Derek glared at him, he kept him mouth. He acted like he didn’t care and that seemed to have worked so far so…

How did he know?

Swallowing, Stiles straightened up, running his hand down his legs, slowly inching closer to the knife dipped in Wolfsbane.

“What are you talking about?” He asked slowly.

Derek let out a small laugh and he turned to glare at Stiles. “Your nice guy act. I know you don’t like me… So you don’t have to pretend you do.”

The relief that washed over Stiles caused him to slump back slightly, dropping his hand back down to the ground.

He relaxed his body and calmly looked at Hale. “Yeah, what gave you that idea?”

Derek rolled his eyes, turning to look back at pond. “I can tell, hell I can practically smell the disdain on you.”

That… he had no reply for. To say he was shocked was an understatement. He was aware that emotions gave off certain scents such that the noses of werewolves could easily pick them up but Stiles had been carefully. He had tried and trained to get his emotions in check and when there was a small fall back, Stiles had made sure there was a reason that he could give if those beasts were to pick it up.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stiles said instead.

Derek scoffed. “Right. Of course you don’t.”

He moved to get up and in a fit of panic that he might lose the only window he had to get close to Derek, Stiles grabbed onto the werewolf’s wrist, stopping him.

“Whoa, wait.”

Derek stopped in a second, his eyes flashing down to the grip Stiles had on him, going a double take, making a clear indication that Stiles better get his hand the fuck off him.

“I’m taking my hand off.” Stiles said, quickly letting go. He stared down at the ground for a second before he looked back up. “Just, you don’t have to go. If I had a problem with you, I wouldn’t have walked over here and sat down.”

Derek stared at him, and Stiles gave him a wide eyed stare, hoping his ‘innocent’ eyes would be convincing and sure enough Derek Hale gave in, letting out a sigh as he turned back around and sat down once more.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Stiles mocked.

Derek glared at him.

“Dude, take a joke. Geez, you have a stick up your ass or something.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“Pull that stick out your ass then.”

The eye roll he got was expected and Stiles felt satisfaction once more when he noticed Derek’s shoulders slumped down just a bit.

“So… back to the first question before you rudely interrupted me. How have you been?” Stiles asked.

“Fine.”

Stiles sighed, “I’m good too, thanks for asking.”

He shook his head at Derek, watching as the guy looked to the ground, reaching down to pull at a piece of grass.

“How’s that basketball thing going? Erica says you’re pretty good.” Stiles tried again.

“Yeah… It’s going okay. I guess.”

“You guess? Dude, I’ve seen you play. You’re really good. You should think about going pro.” He said, ignoring the look Derek send him when Stiles mentioned seeing him play.

“Pro? Yeah, that’s a great idea.” Derek said with a scoff and a shake of the head. "My mom would love that.”

“Well if it’s your passion, I’m sure she would.”

Derek just shook his head, looking down again.

“Why are you out here anyway?” Stiles asked, not wanting to fall into another silent moment.

“God, do you ever shut up!” Derek snapped, turning to give him a hard glare.

Stiles jumped slightly at the outburst. He swallowed, looking at Derek with wide eyes, forcing himself not to reach for his knife. He could tell Derek regretted the outburst of anger the moment he did it.

He stared at Stiles for a minute, gritting his teeth together and looking away.

Stiles didn’t say anything for a while. This time, he let the silence wash over them.

“I’m sorry.”

Stiles didn’t reply. He just nodded.

“I'm just not in the mood for people today, Stiles.”

Stiles gave a jerky nod and moved to stand up. He brushed his hands off his jeans, looking down at Derek as he does so, wanting to say something, anything that would leave an impact. Give Derek the idea what they could be friends, therefore giving the idea that he could trust Stiles.

Deciding to go for a simple gesture, Stiles moved and placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Listen, if you every want to talk, my ear is always open. Hell I can even shut up while you’re speaking.”

Derek let out a small, barely heard scoff and Stiles took that as a win. With a final pat to his shoulder, Stiles turned around and walked away, his lips tugging up, growing into a smirk at the feeling of someone watching him.


	4. Monsters Stuck in Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His thoughts kept him grounded. His memories fueled his hatred but now... Now his own thoughts and his own memories are turning against him.

Two weeks passed and Stiles felt unsure of himself. He had no idea what to do. He had no idea what angle to play in his plan and with each passing day, he felt this undercurrent emotion, something he couldn’t grasp and it kept him awake each and every night. He needed something, he just had no idea what that was.

“Stiles!”

His head snapped up at the call of his name and Stiles looked over his shoulder to see Malia making her way over to him. Her smile was bright and child-like. She was dressed in her usual style, long floral printed tights with knee high boots, a dark purple long sleeve shirt that laced up in the front and a sleeveless denim jacket.

He had thought of using her as a way in but something in Stiles dismissed that idea immediately. His deal was with Derek, no one else.

“Hey.” He greeted, smiling at her.

Her dark eyes bore into his and Stiles forced himself not to look away. He had become accustomed to Malia Tate (Hale), or at least tried to. She had no regard for normal human behavior. He did some digging into her, found out her true heritage and how she had come to be a part of the Hale family. His dad told him about her mother who had abandoned her and then later tried to kill her.

_Mother of the year…_

She was the biological daughter of Peter Hale, one of the victims of the Hale Fire and when Malia found out she was adopted and ‘different’ (As she had explained to Stiles), she, with the help of her dad had tracked down the Hale’s and after meeting them, they agreed it would be best if Malia stayed with them.

Stiles figured the reason for their decision was not at all because her dad was having financial problems but because Malia was a ‘ _were_ ’ just like the Hale’s.

“… Scott’s house?”

Malia’s clear voice pulled him back and he focused his attention on her once more to see her looking at him with expecting eyes.

“Huh?” He asked, blinking for the sake of it.

She cocked her head to the side, her dark brows pulling together. “Do you want to come to Scott’s house?” She repeated slowly.

Stiles had just opened his mouth when he felt his skin crawl. Slowly, his eyes drifted over Malia’s shoulder to the green eyed Beta who was staring directly at him. Derek Hale. Derek hadn’t spoken to him since that day at the field and Stiles had no idea what to do about that.

He had thought after his little heart-to-heart with Derek that the guy would be lighter with him, less tense but since then, he had glared at Stiles whenever they made eye contact. Stiles wanted to glare back, reveal the burning hatred he felt whenever he was in the same room as him but he forced the anger down and looked away as he was expected to do.

Malia frowned at him before she too turned around, following his eye line.

Derek broke eye contact and briefly glanced at Malia.

When she turned around, her frown was gone and she looked calm and relaxed once again.

“Derek says its fine.” She said.

Stiles eyes snapped over to her. “I highly doubt that.”

“Why?”

Stiles sighed. “Because, Malia… Your cousin looks like he has a fire poker shoved up his ass whenever I so much as breathe the same air as him. Me being in the same house is mostly likely gonna feel like a coal up his ass.”

Malia’s nose crinkled. “That’s gross.”

He shrugged. He was tired and his lack of sleep was messing with his brain.

Suddenly a hand grabbed his arm and out of reflex, Stiles tensed up and his hand shot up and grabbed onto the wrist, fully intended to twist it and shove it off when—

“Come on, Stiles! Please!” Malia stepped forward. “Derek is a jerk but Scott and the other’s really want you there. And I promised I would do everything I could to make that happen.”

“Like manhandling me?” The words came out rougher than intended but Malia didn’t seem to be affected by it.

She wasn’t affected by a lot of things…

“Promise you will come and I will let you go.”

Stiles smirked. “As hot as you are, I don’t think you’ll be able to make that happen.”

He went for flirty, anything to force his body to relax, to feel comfortable with the grip Malia had on his forearm. He didn’t want to come off as defensive because it has been a month and he needed to act like these people were his friends.

“I don’t understand that.” Malia replied, her dark eyes narrowed in confusion.

Stiles froze at that. He opened his mouth to ask if she was joking when Malia spoke over him.

“Never mind that. Will you come or not?”

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes. He felt her fingers tighten around his arm, excitement practically flowing off her, so much so, that even he felt it.

“Okay, fine!”

Malia hissed a ‘yes’ and reached out to him, jerking him forward as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. Stiles winced in pain at the force in which she hugged him but it faded away when he felt Malia’s body brush against his as she bounced on her tippy-toes with joy.

“Great. I will see you then.” She pulled back. “Bye!”

Stiles stared at her retreating form, wondering once again, who the hell will be the easiest to manipulate but now, after spending nights wondering how he could learn more about them… he finally had a way to do just that.

 

*

 

_“You monster!”_

_Her voice sounded strong and confident. She sounded fearless._

_Stiles couldn’t see her. He couldn’t tell where she was but he knew… somehow, he knew he needed to help her._

_A roar tore through the dark abyss and Stiles looked around, trying to see into the shadows, trying to find his mom._

_“Mom!” He shouted but heard nothing._

_“Mom!” He tried again._

_Suddenly two forms materialized from the blinding darkness. He squinted and tried to move closer but as much as he walked she remained unreachable._

_“You monster! I am going to kill you! Mark my words!” His mother shouted._

_She was lying on the floor._

_There was someone standing over her._

_“You’re not the killer here...” A voice said._

_His words echoed in the void._

_Stiles looked at the figure standing over his mom. A man. Tall. Dark hair. Leather jacket. Green eyes. Cold, lifeless, murderous green eyes._

_"I am." He finished off._

_He took a step forward and a sadistic grin spread across of his face. His mother stared at him, her eyes locked on him like he was nothing but a weak man._

_“I am not afraid of you.” His mother said back, her voice strong, never wavering._

_“You sure about that?”_

_Stiles watched, paralyzed as his mother glared at Derek Hale before that beast lunged for her, his face turning, hardening, revealing the monster that lurked behind the face of a human._

_Stiles watched, unable to do anything as Derek Hale sunk his teeth into his mother’s neck. His canines piercing her veins and arteries and blood poured out from the wound._

_His mother screamed._

Stiles shot up, his eyes wide, his pupils blown as adrenaline rushed through his blood. His mouth was open, a scream trapped in his throat, choking him, making it hard for him to breathe. His heart banged against his chest, loud and painful.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to calm down but images kept flashing through his head. His mom. Hale. Blood. His mom. Derek.

Stiles opened his eyes and brought his hands to his face, counting his fingers slowly.

1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9….

He held his breathe.

...10

He stared at his hands, repeating the process again and again, until he felt his chest relax and his lungs expand, finally letting cold air in as his mind slowly refocused.

He hated him. God he hated him.

Stiles looked over to his board that stood a few spaces away from the foot of his bed. He looked at his face, looked at that picture. That man was the monster who killed his mother. That man was the monster who bit his mother and left her to bleed to death.

He was the monster who left his mother to die. Who left his mother for his dad to find and who inevitable forced his own father to do something so unforgivable yet so kind…

_“I shot her… I shot your mom… I had to.”_

Stiles glared at that photo as the last night came to mind. The evening with Scott McCall.

_Everyone was smiling and laughing and Stiles couldn’t take it._

_He left quietly, made sure the Hale Pack were too preoccupied with themselves to pay any attention to him. As he slipped out the front door and made his way to the edge of the porch, he felt his tensed up body relax._

_He hated being here. He hated being with them._

_He hated the way they joked with one another, the way displayed their obvious love for one another. Love that they got because of Derek Hale and his family. The love that was granted by the one man who took… everything away from his family._

_“Stiles.”_

_His eyes fell shut at the voice. Of course. He forcefully inhaled a calm breathe as he turned around._

_“Derek.” He mocked._

_The Beta glared at him as he stood by the front door, void of his usual leather jacket and in a dark red Henley. The night was cold but Derek didn’t even shiver… Fucking werewolf._

_“You wanna go?”_

_Stiles frowned that the question. “What?”_

_Derek looked down briefly, “Do you want to leave? I can tell you don’t want to be here.”_

_He turned around at that, ready to tell Derek that he doesn’t know that the fuck Stiles wanted to do but he bit his tongue, remembering that day in the clearing and what Derek had said to him:_ You don’t have to pretend… there is no one here to see it anyway.

_Right…_

_Stiles opened his mouth, a lie on the tip of his tongue when he changed tact and said instead, “It’s not you guys. I just… miss my family.”_

_And that was the truth. And if Derek was listening to his heart, he would know it too._

_Hale’s thick brows pulled together and green eyes ran over him slowly. It wasn’t flirty or objectifying but more like Derek was assessing his body, looking for something that his naked eyes couldn’t see._

_“Your family?” He asked, stepping closer._

_Stiles nodded, turning away to look out in front of him, glancing up at the half-moon._

_“They in Paris?”_

_Stiles nodded again._

_They were silent for a beat before Derek spoke again. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”_

_Stiles head snapped over to him in shock. He had expected the werewolf to turn away, to walk back into the house but he had not been expecting… that._

_Derek, who has slowly gravitated toward him until he was nearly by his side, turned to look at him, his green eyes filled with understanding and… compassion._

_“I know what it’s like to miss family.” He continued. “You should call them, hearing their voices would help.”_

_And then he whispered, “God knows I wish I could.”_

Derek was the monster who killed his family. He was the man who killed his family.

He was…

Stiles repeated the words over and over, falling asleep to it.

He was the man who…


	5. Diverge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spot the Supernatural Reference. :D

“Hey, you free later today?” Scott asked as he planted himself in the seat next to Stiles.

Stiles looked away from his notebook, closing it. “Uh, yes. Why?”

“The gang is going out for bowling. You’re totally free to join us.”

Scott was grinning at him, practically bouncing in his seat. His excitement almost made Stiles smile but he settled for a small grin. He had to remind himself once more to look past everything, to look past the person, to look past the face. He held no hatred towards Scott, or anyone, other than Derek, but Scott’s association with Derek was something he couldn’t overlook.

“Yeah man, sure. I’ll have to ask my dad but I’m sure he would let me come with.”

It would take some convincing but Stiles was sure once his dad heard Stiles’ plan that he would be okay with his son hanging out with a bunch of werewolves alone. He had told his father about Derek, about the incident at Scott’s house but for some reason, he could find it in himself to tell his father about that day at the clearing. He wanted to and he had planned to but once his opened up, he found himself withholding that piece of information.

However, since McCall’s house, Derek had been a little more open with him. He no longer glared at Stiles and he even went so far as to a correct a misunderstanding two days ago when he had stopped Stiles who had been walking to his Jeep.

_“Stiles.” He had called out to him._

_Stiles had stopped, his body exhausted from late night’s doing school work and worrying about everything. He didn’t even have the energy to glare at Derek._

_“What?” Stiles asked once Derek was close enough._

_The Beta paused for a second, glancing over his shoulder. Stiles followed his eye line and saw Malia standing by Camaro with Isaac._

_He turned back to Stiles but said nothing._

_Stiles sighed, rolling his eyes. “Listen if you have nothing to say, I am tired and I would really like to get home—“_

_“I don’t hate you.” Derek cut him off._

_Stiles tensed up._

_Derek continued, “When I glare at you, it’s not because I hate you. It’s just… my face, I guess. So for future reference when I stare at you like I have a ‘fire poker up my ass’, it’s not because of you.”_

_Stiles stared at him, his mind frozen, unable to come up with a response. By the time he found his voice, Derek was already half-way to the Camaro._

After school, Stiles drove home in a haze, his mind focused on what he would say to his father and how he could use today as a means to draw them in. He was close, he could feel it. It’s been weeks but Stiles could feel it in his gut that the day he had been waiting for, the day he had been training for, was near. He was already half-way through his plan when his cell rings.

Stiles frowned, pulling it out of his pocket with one hand while keeping his other firmly on the steering wheel. He glanced down and felt a smile break across his face.

He answered immediately.

“Hey sis!”

_“Don’t ‘hey sis’ me. I’ve been trying to call you all day.”_

A small bubble burst within him at the sound of her voice and for the first time in days Stiles felt his entire body relax and a warm feeling spread throughout him.

Stiles laughed. “I had school, Ally. Which I am sure you knew so don’t go looking for reasons to pretend to be mad at me. I know you miss me, no need to hide it behind anger.”

Allison let out a sad sigh. He could hear moving and sheets shuffling. _“Yeah,”_ She said softly. _“I hate that you’re gone.”_

“Aunt Kate not awesome enough for you?”

“No, she’s great, it’s just… I don’t know. I get this vibe from her sometimes which is probably just nothing. I just miss you and Dad so much.”

Stiles shifted in his seat, feeling his gut tighten in worry at his sister’s voice. “You want me to talk to dad? See if he will allow you to come here? I know he’s all for you staying in France to finish school but, if he knows us being away is affecting you like this, he’ll let you come here.”

She sighed and it broke his heart. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to hug her like he always used to do when something brought her down.

 _“No,”_ She muttered. _“I know you and dad have to stay there. Do what you need to do.”_

“Ally-“

 _“I’m not angry, Stiles. I just hate that you have to do this. We said we’d be different. We said we,”_   Her voice dropped in a whisper. _“We promised we would be better than them.”_

Yeah they did.

_Nous protégeous ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-memés._

_We protect those who can’t protect themselves…_

It’s a promise Allison and Stiles made one cold night after Allison had a bad dream about monsters and innocent people. She had felt helpless not because she didn’t know what to do but because those innocent people… they were the monsters they were trained to hunt. Stiles had held her that night as she cried because she didn’t know what do and she felt like she had betrayed the family by not doing anything at all.

Stile told her it was just a dream and she confessed in a soft voice that her choice hadn’t felt… wrong.

So Stiles, being the loving brother that he was, told her that they were hunters who protected people and that was their job.

Two days later, they went to a tattoo parlor and they each tattooed the Argent Crest with their new motto on their body, Stiles getting his over his heart and Allison getting hers on the small of her back as representation that her family will always have her back. After they found out the history Hunters had these days, it only fueled their desire to be better and they promised each other that they wouldn’t be like them.

“I know.” Stiles said. “I know, Ally. But I can’t let this go. He needs to pay for what he did.”

There was rough shuffling and he knew Allison was wildly moving around on her bed. _“Who’s paying the price, Stiles? Derek Hale will die with our mother’s blood on his hands but you, you will have to live with his death on yours.”_

“Don’t.” Stiles snapped in a hard tone. “We talked about this.”

_“No, you told me about this. I know vengeance is a thing in this family. It’s a thing that drives Hunters most in this world. Almost every Hunter started hunting after losing their loved ones to something supernatural. But vengeance is not a one way street. It takes it’s told on everyone.”_

“He killed mom. He’s going to pay for that.”

_“And what about you? What will happen to you after you kill him?”_

Stiles clenched his jaw but he didn’t answer her.

_“Yeah… I thought so.”_

 

*

 

By the time he got to the bowling ring, his mood had dropped drastically. After his phone call with Allison, he got home, told his dad his plan and due to his mood got into fight with his father who objected the idea the instant he heard it.

Stiles had tried to convince him to let him go as calmly and rationally has he could but with his patience already taut and his body exhausted from the emotional turmoil he seemed to be going through, Stiles ended up yelling that his dad gave him this mission, and that how he conducted it is up to him before he stormed to his room, got changed and then left in fury.

“Hey.” Malia greeted when she saw him. Her smile dropped and her bright eyes dimmed just a bit. “Are you okay? You look pissed.”

“I’m fine.” Stiles said, tugging the zipper of his leather jacket down. He shrugged it off and tossed it on the seat next to Malia. “I’m gonna be right back.”

He walked away, fists clenching. He tried to take calming breaths, forcing his anger and the pain he felt from missing Allison and fighting with his father down. He needed to think clearly, and he needed to stay focused. Whatever was going on outside of his plan will have to wait. As he got his shoes, he felt his phone vibrating in his back pocket.

When he saw who it was, he sighed and answered.

“Ally, I really don’t want to fight with you.”

He turned around and made his way back to where the Hale Pack was. He saw Lydia and Jackson sitting with their arms around each other. Scott and Isaac were bowling while Kira and Malia cheered. Derek, Erica and Boyd were nowhere in sight.

 _“I know,”_ She said softly.

Regardless of her stern words from before, her voice brought an instant smile to his face.

God, he missed her so much. Since birth, they had been inseparable. Mom and Dad joked that they were your typical twins but Stiles knew, the bond he and Allison shared was anything but typical.

The bond they had stemmed from growing up in a family filled with hunters. The bond that made hunting together both hard and easy, because knowing the other had their back was both a blessing and a curse.

Stiles had heard about two brothers who hunted together and he had heard the rumors about how far they are willing to go for each other.

He knew, that if anything where to happen to Allison, there would be no mercy for those who hurt her and that scared them every day.

Allison’s sweet voice pulled him out of his dark thoughts.

_“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for earlier. I know you have to do this. Cut the last vengeful ties before we take our own path.”_

As he drew closer to the others, he slows down. “I love you, Ally.”

She laughed. _“I love you too, Stiles.”_

And just like that, he felt his spirit rising.

“I have to go. I have a bunch of people to impress with my mad skills.”

_“Don’t cheat, Stiles.”_

“I would never!” He gasped dramatically.

Allison’s laugh was so contagious, he couldn’t help but chuckle too.

_“I love you, you jerk. Bye.”_

“Bye.”

He hung up and looked down at his phone, smiling. On it was a photo of them (He refused to call it a Selfie) that Allison had forced him to take. Their faced where pressed together, their dark eyes bright and twinkling with joy.

Though they share no physical similarities with their parents. Their mother having red hair and grey eyes and their father having a light brown shade of hair with blue eyes, they were told they resembled their ancestors. The men and woman who had dark hair that blending into the night, dark eyes that struck fear into anyone who looked into them and porcelain skin that made them look almost… Angelic.

“I thought you were gay?” A voice said behind him.

Stiles jumped in shock, spinning around and saw Erica, Derek and Boyd standing behind him.

“What?” Was the most logical response he could come up with.

His hand twitched and he fought the urge to back away from them. They shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on him like that. He shouldn’t have let his guard down, even if he was only taking a call. Stiles flexed his jaw for a second as he stared at the three pairs of eyes on him.

“Your phone call. And your wallpaper.”

Stiles frowned and looked down see his phone was not locked, revealing the picture of Stiles and Allison. He locked it instantly, thanking whoever was out there that the phone was slightly angled so the werewolves couldn’t have gotten a clear look of her face.

“Who is she?” Erica asked, walking after Stiles when he fell back into the shy, awkward, persona he had adapted and hurried away from them.

Well, it’s not truly a persona. Stiles was like this but then life happened and he grew out of it. He, much like his sister, had no other choice. Hunters were not children… not for long anyway.

“She’s my sister.”

He dropped down next to Malia, starting up a conversation with her. When Erica dropped the subject, taking the hint, Stiles sighed. She made him unease, not because she had the eyes of a lioness but because she questioned him left and right, and even if Stiles had back up stories for his back up stories, the constant questions made him worry that he might slip up.

Shaking his head, Stiles stared at the werewolves, and forced himself to enjoy the day that laid ahead. He laughed and joked with Scott, insulted and bickered with Jackson when he saw an opening. He talked with everyone, trying to build some trust, wanting them to fall even deeper for his act. He played his part, beat Derek when they went up against each other but held his role as a spaz by tripping over his own feet when he made his way back to his seat.

“Argh!” Scott groaned with joy at the end of the day. “That was the best day ever!”

He jumped, grabbing Stiles’ shoulders to give it a shake. “I am so happy you could make it man! The way you killed Derek at bowling will be a moment that will forever be remembered.”

“Yeah, nobody has ever beaten Derek. Lydia comes close but I think she uses some math formula to help her.” Malia agreed next to him.

“He did all right.”

Stiles looked over to the guy that spoke. He grinned at Derek, “Sore loser?”

The corner of Derek’s lip tugged up before a small grin broke through. He said nothing, just reached out, wrapping his arm around his cousin and tugged her with him.

As they walked away, Malia turned and shouted. “He’s a sore loser!”

The other werewolves laughed, each of them bidding the other goodbye. The girls and Isaac pulled Stiles into a hug. Jackson and Boyd gave him the ‘bro’ handshake, leaving with a pat on the back and taking their girlfriends with them.

“I’m glad you could make it, man.” Scott said.

He looked at Stiles with an open grin, his puppy eyes displaying innocence that shouldn’t be there.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen Derek smile that much in a long time.” Kira added from under Scott’s arm to which Isaac nodded.

Something tugged in Stiles at that. He shook his head, letting Scott and Kira hug him before they made their way over to Scott’s mom’s car.

Stiles watched them go as he made his way to his Jeep, shaking his head at them. The day kept replaying over in his head, everything that had happened, the jokes that were made, the warmth and the joy they all expressed.

When he neared his car, he caught his reflection in the window and everything inside him froze.

Slowly, he felt his expression fall.

He had been smiling. With them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes, in this Fic, Allison is living in France and She and Stiles are well aware of the Hunting world since a young age. She and Stiles are being groomed to take over the Argent name.
> 
> The two brother are the Winchester in case that wasn't clear.
> 
> Hope you liked it.


	6. Head Vs Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles does something there is no turning back from.

Stiles stared blankly down at the book in front of him, forcing his mind back to the math that’s there but he couldn’t understand. He couldn’t focus, not on school, not on anything since that day with the Hale Pack at the bowling alley. His smile kept flashing through his head.

He had enjoyed their company...

He hadn’t been able to sleep and signs were showing. He had dark circles under his eyes and he spoke less and less with the werewolves. They had all asked him individually if he was okay and Derek…

Derek Hale had even stopped him one day after school and asked if something was bothering him.

He had said it was nothing but Derek stepped closer and then asked in a soft and understanding voice if it had anything do with his family.

Stiles had felt that familiar anger he had been seeking for rise up within him but when he opened his mouth and glared up into Derek’s compassionate eyes, it dissipated instantly, leaving Stiles feeling empty and lost.

His time was running up. His dad was getting impatient and as much as Derek had acknowledged Stiles’ existence, it wasn’t enough. He had to do something and fast because he feared the longer he stayed here, the longer he was around those werewolves, that when the time came he wouldn’t be able to--

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating against his wooden bedside table. He glanced over and watched as the screen flashed.

He sighed and reached for it.

When the number appeared as Unknown, Stiles was tempted to ignore it. His finger hovered over the red button but then he moved it and pressed the answer button, taking the small distraction as a blessing.

“Hello?”

 _“Hey.”_ A deep voice said.

The pencil in his hand dropped and he froze. His grip on the phone tightened involuntary. Jumping up from his bed, he made his way to his window and pressing his back up against the wall as he slowly drew back his curtain, peaking outside, looking for a figure, anything that would suggest something was watching him.

_“Stiles?”_

Stiles closed his eyes, forcing his heart to slow down. “Yeah, sorry. I’m here. What’s up?”

His tone was light, and Stiles forced himself to hold that tone, to control his heartbeat, to give nothing away.

 _“Uh, nothing. I was just… I was wondering if you wanted to go for a ride with me.”_ Derek said on the other side.

“You mean- now?”

Keep calm. Steady heartbeats. Light tone.

_“Yeah. If you’re not busy.”_

Stiles looked around his room and down at his clothes. He thought about his fears, about the emptiness within now that the anger that once filled him was gone.

“You coming to pick me up or do I have to meet you somewhere?”

_“I’m gonna pick you up.”_

Stiles nodded. His heart pounding. “Yeah. Okay.”

When Derek hung up, Stiles rushed through his room. He stalked to his closet and pulled out his carrier bag where he kept all his personal things. Pulling out his sheath, Stiles strapped it around his jean covered calf. His heart was pounding, a roaring thunder that matched the raging storm of emotions coursing through his entire being. He slipped on his boots and sheathed his knife, the length of the boots covering it perfectly.

His boots were covered in various pollen dust and mistletoe to try and hide the scent of the Wolfsbane on his knife. The familiar weight of the knife triggered that rush of Adrenalin that he had forgotten since he got here.

He put on his knife holsters, slipping his arms through it and sheathed his ring daggers into each space before he put on his leather jacket. Though those weren’t laced with wolfsbane, Stiles could injure Derek in various weak spots that will take long to heal, giving Stiles enough time to escape if necessary.

His phone pinged.

He picked it up and read the text.

 

_**I’m outside.** _

 

_**-D.H** _

 

Stiles looked behind him at his door, listening to make sure there was no scuffling or noises that indicated his father might be awake. He checked on him an hour or so ago but Stiles was still a little paranoid.

Switching off his light and making his way to his window, Stiles opened it up and slipped through the small gap. He looks over to see a Black Camaro hidden under the cloak of darkness.

Stiles looked over to Derek’s car before he dropped down, landing on his feet. He jogged across the road, nearing the car and then slid into the passenger side.

“Nice landing. It’s almost like you do it a lot.” Derek commented.

Stiles scoffed, rolling down his window to get some fresh air in and to hide the Wolfsbane scent as much as possible. “Are you implying I sneak out a lot?”

Derek started the car instead of answering and soon they were driving away, leaving the Argent residence in the review mirror. Stiles remained silent, looking out of the window as they drove past every single house, wondering where they were going, planning everything.

Tonight might be the night.

The soft banging of the knives against his sides relaxed him.

“So where are we going?”

“The woods… That okay?”

Stiles looked over to Derek, mocking a shock face. “You didn’t think to mention that before?”

Derek shrugged. “Well, I figured if you were willing to sneak out of your house in the middle of the night, a walk in the woods wouldn’t be that much of a leap.”

“Wow. You’re doing wonders for that Serial Killer look you have going on at school.”

Derek laughed and gave Stiles a look. “My family owns the land. I know those woods so we won’t get lost and there’s a path that can be easily followed. I can turn back if you don’t want to come with me anymore?”

Stiles thought about the woods, the dark night and how he could easily be overpowered by the pack. His three knives weren’t going to help him but there could also be the chance that Derek was telling the truth. Maybe he wanted to hang out with Stiles and if so, this would be the perfect time.

He could get it over and done with.

He could finally cut the last ties that linked his future to his dark past.

The odds weren’t in his favor but it’s a risk he was willing to take.

“No, it’s fine.”

Derek smiled at him.

 

 *

 

When they reached a small opening to the right that left to a broken path, Derek took the turn and drove further in before stopping the car.

“We have to walk for a while, that okay?”

Stiles looked out in front of him, taking in the dark wood, the lack of light and the mystical appearance of it before he nodded.

They got out and the chilly air hit him immediately. Stiles tugged up the collar of his jacket, shoves his hands in his pockets as they slowly made their way into the woods with Derek leading the way.

Derek was right, there was a small path that Stiles was sure would be much clearer during the day but regardless of the lack of light it was a path he could easily remember.

He kept his distance from Derek, made sure they weren’t close enough for Derek to be able to smell past his body spray and the pollen.

With each step they took Stiles couldn’t help but look around. He was hyper vigilant, taking in everything, listening beyond his and Derek’s footsteps.

He kept replaying the plan in his head.

The woods was a safe distance from werewolf ears.

A secluded but open area, where Stiles could easily find his way out.

It’s not long before he heard the sound of running water. Interested, Stiles focused on that sound, recalling the map of Beacon Hills that he had memorized, remembering a small stream that cut through the forest.

After a few more steps, a small bridge came into view.

“This is it.” Derek said, pulling his hands out of his pockets.

Stiles stopped and watched as Derek jogged up ahead of him, stopping on the right side of the bridge. He turned to Stiles, looking at him with raised eyebrows when he noted Stiles hadn’t moved. He nodded his head to the side, inviting him to come a bit closer.

As Stiles moved closer, he took the new area in.

It was beautiful, Stiles would give him that. The stream below reflected the clear night sky above. Stars littered the sky, illuminating the dark night, and the moon was a big, bright beacon among them.

When Stiles finally made it to Derek and took his place opposite him, the werewolf spoke.

“I used to come here with my sisters.” Derek muttered next to him.

Stiles, with his elbow resting on the railing, turned to look at Derek. “You mean Laura?”

Derek shook his head, looking down at the running water. He took a step closer to Stiles, mirroring his position. They were roughly the same height so when Derek looked at him, they were eye to eye.

“I had another sister… And a brother.” Derek said, looking away from Stiles. “They died a long time ago, in a fire.”

Stiles recalled the research, recalled everything he had read about that fire. He remember his father’s icy tone telling him that the Hale fire was old news and he should not derail from the mission.

According to the report, Derek, Laura and their mother were the only survivors.

Talia Hale had been pulled out by Laura.

“We use to come here. To look at the stars. To just be together.”

“You must miss them a lot.” Stiles said, trying to bring Derek’s guard down.

Derek glanced at him briefly, his green eyes sorrowful. “It’s hard living here and having a constant reminder of them wherever I go. We left for New York after it happened and then came back a year later. We had responsibilities that we couldn’t ignore.”

Stiles ran his eyes around him, noting the way Derek was clearly distracted, lost in the memories of his tragic past, looking out blankly in front of him.

Stiles stepped closer to the railing, casually bringing his leg up to rest on the wooden planks that made it. He listened for any sound, anything that would indicate they weren’t alone. He glanced at Derek to see the werewolf staring down at the water.

Slowly he dropped his hand, his fingers brushing against the edge of his boot where his knife was sheathed.

“That’s why I brought you here.”

Stiles paused, looking at Derek.

The werewolf turned to look at him. “I can see in your eyes you lost someone. And I know you of all people know what that kind of lost does to the human soul.”

Anger rushed through Stiles, running through his veins.

Human soul… Was he serious?

Derek continued. “People don’t know this but… the fire wasn’t an accident.” He swallowed. “My family was targeted, I don’t know why, but there were locks on our doors. The only reason survived was because by some change of fate, me and Laura were out for movies. She wanted to surprise me because we hardly had any time to hang out. My mom… There was this family friend, he was visiting or was on his way and saw the fire. He helped mom out just as we got there and..."

Derek blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “I remember grabbing my mom. I remember being so close to the fire I could feel the heat burning my skin, holding my mom and Laura back. They wanted to go back, save the others and I was about to let them go when… We were about to turn back when the house collapsed.”

Stiles’ leg dropped heavily back to the ground, his body frozen.

There were tears in Derek’s eyes when he finally looked at Stiles. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this but for some reason… I feel like I can trust you.”

And there it was.

What Stiles had been working toward, gaining Derek’s trust.

But now that he had it… He felt sick.

Allison’s voice rung through his head.

_What will happen to you after you kill him?_

“Didn’t they—“ Stiles cleared his throat when he heard how rough it sounded. “Didn’t they check for those things before they ruled it an accident?”

Derek shook his head. “The way they were trapped, it wasn’t…” He trailed off.

_The way they were trapped…_

If they weren’t trapped in the normal sense then that would mean whoever went after them, went after them with the knowledge that they were werewolves, meaning humans didn’t burn their home down… Hunters did.

But that--- His dad never told him that. His dad would have looked into it, given that the Hale family was so well known, and if he did…

Why didn’t he tell Stiles? Why didn’t he tell Stiles any of this?

“I wanted to thank you.”

Derek’s deep, emotion clogged voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Stiles’ head snapped over to look at him and he frowned. His stomach churned and his mind kept spinning as question after question kept rolling around, his mind urging him to think, that he knew the answer.

He felt knew the answer.

But he didn’t.

Derek spoke again, obvious to the inner battle waging on within his head. “For what you said back in the fields. You didn’t need to be there but you were and I wanted to thank you for that.”

Stiles nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

They stared at each other and Stiles felt a strange sensation in his gut. He wanted to look away, he should look away but the pure openness in Derek’s eyes hindered him. It’s like he could see everything and he didn’t know what to do with what he saw.

This wasn’t the monster he had been seeing every single night in his nightmares.

He pictured a cold hearted beast, a merciless heartless monster who took his mother from him.

But Derek… How could a man who knew the pain and the ache that came from losing your entire family… How could he have inflicted the same pain upon someone else?

Then slowly, almost torturous, Derek moved.

He leaned in closer and Stiles could smell the peppermint scent of his breath washing over his lips. Stiles’ body tensed up, his eyes were locked on Derek’s, watching and waiting, the closer he got.

A heavy weight leaned on his forehead and he watched, unable to will his body to move as Derek closed his eyes.

Their noses brushed together and Stiles knew this was his out. This was his chance to pull away. To move away to clear his thoughts and ask himself what the fuck he was doing?

He swallowed, wetting his dried up throat, and licked his lips, buying time. Stiles inhaled and slowly tilted his head.

Their lips brushed against each other’s, hesitant and slow, barely felt but it send a chill down his spine.

Derek’s breathe hitched.

Stiles’ body reacted, his mind going blank and he found himself turning around fully, found his hands moving up at their own will, cupping Derek’s face, pulling him closer, kissing him back. Moving his lips against Derek’s, losing himself in… _everything_.

His mind was screaming at him to stop, to think about what he’s doing.

His heart… His heart was telling him a different story.


	7. Unveiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.

He hadn’t been able to look his dad in the eyes for two weeks.

After Derek dropped him off, he went to bed, stripped off everything that made him feel sick to his stomach, he threw his knifes in his cases, locked it up and hid it in the back of his wardrobe.

He tossed and turned. He felt this overwhelming feeling of guilt and shame build up in him.

He didn’t know what to do anymore.

Everything, every plan he had made, every back up plan, every counter plan, everything had fallen to pieces. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he could barely look at Derek at school.

The board was turned around and Stiles forced himself not to glance at it.

To distract himself, he took to looking through all the cold case files regarding the Hale fire. He knew his father kept copies around his room, research on the local werewolf pack. With every passing minute, a picture started forming on what truly happened that night, and it wasn’t the image his father made for him.

The more he read, the more it became clear that the Hale fire was anything but an accident. There were no ‘locked doors’ as Derek had explained. In fact the Hale family had more than enough opening to get through.

Windows had exploded due to the heat of the flames.

That was the one thing made everything regarding the Hale Fire suspicious.

How could all these things have been overlooked?

And why hadn't the 'family friend' that saved them speak up?

He dug deeper and names after names appeared, a perfect cover story started forming.

 _Garrison Myers_ -Insurance investigator, currently Beacon Hill’s school bus driver.

 _Reddick_ \- Arsonist.

 _Unger_ \- Arsonist.

All signs point to Arson, yet Garrison, who ruled the Hale House Fire an accident, blamed it on an Electronic Malfunction.

One man’s word… And everything about the case changed.

An argument that was fueled by the knowledge that the Hale’s had more than enough time to get out.

Derek was right, they were trapped.

Not as humans but as werewolves…

Humans didn’t kill almost the entire Hale pack… Hunters did.

He didn’t know which hunting family it was, and he didn’t care.

He knew, there was a code that needed to be followed. Derek broke that code when he killed his mother but who in the hunting community broke their code?

 

*

 

At school, those questions kept running through his head, making class hard as he couldn’t concentrate on anything but what happened.

The kiss.

The Hale fire.

Derek’s pained eyes.

His father’s determined eyes.

Something grabbed his arm, jerking him out of his head. He spun around, his fist clenched, ready to strike whoever attacked him.

“Whoa!” Derek shouted, jerking back, letting go of Stiles arm like it burned.

“Jesus Christ!” Stiles exclaimed, drawing attention from the other students who were also walking out of the school building, heading home. “What the fuck? You can’t just grab a guy while his deep in thought. I could have hurt you!”

Derek narrowed his eyes at Stiles, suspicion swimming in them before he shook his head.

His expression turned serious and Stiles frowned when Derek took a step closer. His eyes were burdened, hardened but for the first time Stiles felt like it was due to him. Stiles looked around the school area for a second before he returned his eyes to Derek.

“Listen, I know you’re still… ignoring me,” Derek said, looking dejected as he spoke. “But I need you to listen to me. I heard there is some… bad guy around by the Sheriff's department and I need you to stay indoors tonight, okay?”

Stiles frowned at him.

Derek leaned closer, his eyes urgent, practically begging Stiles to listen to him.

“Please. Just promise me?”

He wanted to know what was going on. Someone in the back of his head recalls his dad looking worried this morning, talking on the phone with Aunt Kate.

Stiles found himself nodding.

Derek paused like he wanted to add something else, his eyes flickered from Stiles’ lip, before returning back to his eyes. He clenched his jaw and jerked away, walking away from Stiles without looking back.

When Stiles got home, he tried to ask his dad if he heard anything but the older man remained tight lipped, changing the subject immediately after dismissing it and asked Stiles about Derek instead.

Stiles came up with a lie, telling him how Derek was slowly getting there and that by two weeks, he will have killed him and nobody, not even the Hale Pack will suspect him or their family.

The words left a sour taste his mouth and his father’s proud nod made him want to throw up.

He tried to distract himself. Do school work. Work out. Anything but he's body was too energized for anything.

He found himself pacing up and down in his room, his blood boiling, his body itching to go out there, to find out what had happened. It had to be something supernatural, or else Derek wouldn’t have asked him to stay inside.

His phone rang and Stiles hurried over to answer it.

 _Scott_ …

Stiles sighed, forcing his anger and disappoint down as he answered. “Hey, Scott. What’s up?”

“Hey, Stiles. Uh, listen I know Derek spoke you already and knowing you, you’re probably planning to ignore his advice, but I’m just asking you to please listen.”

Stiles frowned, listening closely at the laboring breaths on the other side of the phone. He could hear the distant sound of a car’s engine and chattering in the back ground.

“Scott, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m really—”

_“Scott, we need to go. Now!”_

_Derek._

“Bye, Stiles.”

Stiles eyes widened. “Scott--- No, wait—“

Scott hung up. Stiles stared at the phone, his mind reeling a hundred different thoughts per second.

His dad worry filled voice.

Derek concerned look.

Through it all he heard Allison’s voice: _Nous protégeous ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-memés…_

Spinning around, Stiles ran to his computer. He flipped it open, using Scott’s number and praying he didn’t switch off his phone. Stiles quickly tracked the number, using GPS.

Getting the address, Stiles memorized it and ran to his closet, pulling out the case that held his bow and arrows. He took off his red plaid shirt, shrugging on his black formfitting jacket, his jeans with boots will have to do.

He took off, jumping out his window, a duffel bag containing his weapons clutched in his hands.

He started the engine of his Jeep, the tires squealing as he backed out and sped down the road. He didn’t care if his father heard him, he didn’t care if his father came after him.

He’s not following the code anymore.

He pulled out his phone, seeing the blinking red dot had not moved.

A half hour later, Stiles came to a stop in front of an old warehouse. The Camaro was there as well as Jackson’s Porsche.

Jumping out, Stiles strapped on his quiver and looked around the building. He ran around the back, looking for anything that could get him inside the building without being detected.

He heard a howl coming from within and acting on impulse, Stiles slipped through the back door. There were crates packed everywhere and Stiles could hear the grunting and howling and growling that indicated a fight.

He ducked, walking slowly toward a crate. He gripped his bow, lifting his hand to his arrows as he looked around the corner.

His eyes widened in shock at the sight. A group of monsters, fighting each other, covered in blood and scratches, their eyes glowing and their mouths filled with multiple pointed teeth.

 _Wendigo’s_ …

One had a blonde werewolf around the neck from behind, his face inches from her neck as she struggled, her claws out, impaling the head as she tried to push him off her.

Erica.

A sword wielding glowing body was surrounded by four, her eyes a fire-y orange as she swung and twisted.

Kira.

Stiles’ eyes landed on Scott, though he doesn’t know how he knew it was Scott, who was busy slashing the guts out of one, while another was advancing on him from behind.

Stiles jumped onto a crate, climbing it until he reached the top where he notched his arrow and released, not even waiting to see if it impaled its target. He turned, shooting another at the one that had Erica, getting his arm so she could break free.

He turned around and stayed hidden, releasing arrow after arrow. When the last of the Wendigo's were dead, he got read to jump down and vanish and then he heard it.

A howl from the outside.

The others turned around, running towards the sound on instinct and Stiles hid in the shadows, waiting, until the footsteps were gone before he followed.

His all black outfit helped him blend into the night perfectly, the noise from the battle gave him an indication on where the other wolves ran too.

“Derek!” He heard Erica shout.

His heart spiked but Stiles ignored it.

He sped up, feeling the ground crunch underneath his feet, the heavy weight of the bow in his hand, the adrenaline pumping through his body, causing his heart to speed up, like a freaking alarm to every supernatural creature in a 10 mile radius.

As he got closer, he heard an animalist growl deep within the woods.

When Stiles finally reached the noise, he stopped behind a tree. Pulling out an arrow, he spins around the trunk, aiming, ready to release but he stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

Surrounding by his pack laid Derek, bloodied on the ground.

His eyes widened and Stiles took an involuntary step forward, the loud rustling of the leaves on the ground caused every pack member to turn and growl at him.

They froze when they saw it was him but Stiles couldn’t look at them, his eyes remained firmly on Derek.

“Stiles…” Scott lisped through his fangs. “What are you doing here?”

He forced his eyes away from Derek and plastered a smirk on his face, dropping his arrow and placing it back into his quiver. “Saving your ass, what’s it look like?”

Scott opened his mouth.

“Stiles, look out!” Erica shouted.

Stiles spun around, looking in glowing silver eyes before a searing pain ignited in his stomach.

White flashed before his eyes for a split second before it slowly darkened.

He felt movement around him and he tried to blink, get his vision back.

His legs buckled and gave out from under him.

Warm liquid coated his fingers as he grappled at his stomach where the pain seemed to be coming from…

And then everything faded.

 

*

 

Slowly, Stiles awakened.

The foggy feeling in brain dissipated and he heard movement, muttering. As he gained consciousness, he felt pain, it was dull but it was there and Stiles focused on that, using that as an anchor to pull himself out of the dark.

His stomach burned but they seem to travel up his chest before it vanished, his felt wet and his entire body felt like it was on fire, the hottest part being his stomach.

A groan broke out from him.

His chest ached from the sound and he winced, squeezing his eyes shut before he opened them.

Light burned his eyes, sending a spiking back to his temple and Stiles had to squeeze his eyes shut for a second before he opened then again, this time slowly, letting the light in.

He heard footsteps coming closer and looked over just in time to see Scott and Erica rushing toward him. He felt a hand shift on his chest and he glanced down, following the hand up to the arm until he locked eyes with kind warm brown eyes.

 _Boyd_ …

“Stiles? Hey, Stiles? You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine. You’re at the Hale house, okay? Can you hear me? Stil-“

“For fuck’s sake, McCall.” Jackson said from somewhere. “Will you shut up and let the guy speak?”

Laughter bubbled up from his chest and he looked around him taking in the faces.

He saw Lydia sitting with Kira and Malia on chairs, their eyes emotional-filled and smiles watery.

He looked down at his body, taking note that his upper body was bare, a bandage wrapped around his stomach, making it both hard and painful to breath.

 _His_ …

Stiles shook his head, frowning, trying to rid his mind of the foggy cloud.

And then suddenly everything came back to him.

The warning from Derek. The call from Scott. The wendigo’s. The pain.

“Oh shit.” He groaned, a skull splitting headache forming. A hand cupped his forehead, leeching the pain. Stiles looked up, sending a grateful smile to Erica. “How long was I out?”

Scott frowned at him.

Stiles started to worry. How long had he been out? Shit, did they know about him? Did they know who he was?

His hands curled around the covers beneath him and Stiles forced himself up.

His body protested but he ignored it.

“I need to go.” He groaned.

“Woah!” Everyone shouted jumping up and rushing toward him.

Scott’s hands fell on his shoulders, easing him down. His kind, loving brown eyes staring Stiles down, urging him both physically and mentally to lie down.

“You can’t leave. You need to heal.”

Stiles shook his head, shoving Scott’s hands off him. “I need to go. Where’s my stuff?”

“Here.”

Stiles froze mid-way from getting up.

His head snapped toward the door to see Derek standing in the hallway with Laura and a woman who has Derek’s features but ink black eyes.

_Talia Hale._

They were staring at him and Stiles’ eyes flickered to everyone who was looking at Laura as if waiting for her order but the only thing he noticed was that no one moved away from him, they all stayed exactly where they were.

“Let him go, Scott.” Derek said coldly.

The anger in his eyes told Stiles all he needed to know.

He swallowed, willing whatever dignity he could find to lift himself up. Scott grabbed his arms, supporting his weight helping him up.

Laura stepped closer, her body overflowing with confident and for the first time, Stiles watched as every member of the pack’s posture eased just a bit in the presence of their Alpha.

She stopped in front of him, a white shirt that wasn’t his in her hands. Her eyes, more green than Derek’s, locked with his as she handed it to him, leaving Stiles with no other choice but the take it.

“They should fit.” She said.

Stiles stared at her, her eyes though cautious and guarded looked almost… thankful.

“We called your father. Told him you were here.” Laura said.

_His father…_

_They called his father meaning…_

_They… They knew._

Stiles opened his mouth but a certain look passed across Laura’s face, causing him to stop. Her eyes flickered to the right as Stiles took a quick, subtly glance around the room.

The other werewolves were all staring at him and Stiles saw the lack of distain in their eyes, the lack of anger and the hurt.

 _They_ didn’t know.

He took the offered shirt from her hands and slipped it on. He saw her eyes fall to his chest, where the Argent Mark laid bare for anyone to see.

Stiles tugged his shirt down roughly, looking around to see the other werewolves looking at him expectantly.

Before he could say anything, Derek spoke up.

“Your father is outside.”

Stiles looked over to him.

His green eyes that were once so open, that looked at him with such warmth held nothing but iciness and hatred.

He knew this would happen and a few days ago Stiles wouldn’t have given a damn what Derek Hale thought of him.

Derek was going to find out he was an Argent sooner or later…

So why did it hurt so much?

The man killed his mother. Stiles should be the one filled with hatred. Not him.

“I’ll walk you out.” Derek said, turning to the side, revealing the open doorway.

Stiles kept his eyes calm and neutral and he thanked his training that his heart didn’t betray the panic within him.

He nodded before turning to the others. “Thanks for not letting me die.”

Scott laughed and pulled him into a hug, “We are gonna talk about why you aren’t running for the woods after seeing us transformed.”

Stiles said nothing, just patted him on the back.

Derek glared at him and Stiles clenched his jaw, nodding goodbye to the others, knowing this will be the last time he would see them. The last time he would speak to them.

Talia locked eyes with him and she gave him a small nod but otherwise said nothing. He saw Laura turn to watch him and Derek just as they disappeared down the hallway to the stairs.

They walked down the hallway of the Hale house in silence and Stiles, with a body tensed up so tightly that his muscles ached, kept his guard up, waiting for the moment Derek would attack.

The Hale house looked clean and well taken care of. They rebuild it a long time ago but Stiles could see the pain and the emptiness in the walls. He wondered who was the family that killed them was.

He knows Allison would urge him to find out. That nothing happened without a reason.

Derek opened the front door and Stiles found the stretch of land empty.

Panic took hold.

“Your father is on his way.” Derek said behind him.

Stiles walked a few steps away from the house before he turned around, hardening his features, forces his Argent name out, expressing it in every way he could. In his tensed up body, in his hardened eyes, in his clenched jaw.

Derek ran his eyes over him, shaking his head as if he didn’t know the person standing before him.

 _Good_ , Stiles though.

Because Derek didn’t know him. Derek was played by him and now that the truth was out in the open, there was no point in hiding behind the mask that he had worn since the moment they met.

Derek stepped away from the house but there was a wide space between them.

“Was any of it true?”

Stiles raised his eyebrows but otherwise said nothing.

Derek scoffed. “You need to leave and I don’t mean my house,” he swallows. “You need to leave Beacon Hills. Your family has caused enough pain that could last a life time. The other’s don’t know who you really are, but after tonight they will know.”

He heard a car pull up and looked behind him to see the headlights of his father’s car.

Icy blue eyes locked with his and Stiles forced his eyes away.

With Derek’s words replaying in his head, he allowed it to fuel his hatred and ignored the pain in Derek’s eyes.

“I hope your family rot’s in hell.” The werewolf spat.

With that he turned around and stormed into the Hale house.

Stiles wasted no time.

He turned around and walked as fast as his could to his father’s car. Anger and pain coursed through his body and as he climbed in, he saw the curtains from upstairs pull back.

Heads peaked out and Stiles forced his eyes to stay on them until the curtain pulled back.

His father made a sharp turn, picking up dirt and soon they were speeding out of the Hale land.

Derek’s words rang through his head.

He felt his eyes burn but the tears didn’t spill.

He was an Argent at heart and they never showed emotions.

Chris Argent turned to Stiles. “Son, are you—“

Stiles cut him off, the anger and the pain hardening his voice as he spoke, “When we get home, you are telling me the truth about how mom died.”

The look of shock that crossed his father’s face confirmed something he had been sitting on for a while. His father’s story made sense before, how his mom was bitten and how Derek killed her and he knew his mother died by a bullet through the head.

His mother was a proud woman who wore the Argent name like an armor. She wouldn’t have let something like a bite stop her from fighting back, she would have shot half the werewolves had they gotten a piece of her.

“Stiles-“

Stiles glared at him.

His father sighed and nodded.


	8. The Truth Will Set You Free

He couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to. He has tried forcing air into his lungs but with each attempt his chest tightened, hindering him.

The Toyota rumbled under him and any other day Stiles could have found comfort in it but not tonight.

His father’s voice kept bouncing around in his head, repeating the conversation, word for word, bringing all the painful emotions he felt then back, only much worse.

Chris Argent told him everything, revealed what truly happened that night. As he spoke, his eyes were pleading, seeking for something Stiles knew deep in his heart, he couldn’t give him.

Stiles walked out immediately after his father was done.

He had ignored his father’s desperate plea for him to listen.

He had got into his father’s car, staring into blue eyes that for the first time in his life, he couldn’t trust and just drove, pressing his foot down the accelerator, wanting to get as far as possible away from that house.

Dark spots started forming in his eyes and Stiles stomped down on the brakes.

The road was deserted and it was a perfect representation of how he felt.

Dark. Lost… Alone.

He stared down at the steering wheel where his hands were clenched, white knuckled.

And then he broke down.

He’s not proud of it for he knew tears were a sign of weakness but what else could he do?

His mother’s death had been a lie, a lie told to manipulate him. He had focused all his attention on this one thing, dedicated his entire soul into avenging her and now all of it, everything he had worked toward, it had all been a lie.

His father words rang through his ears, repeating everything he had been told like a sick, broken record.

_“She was bitten but— I wasn’t the one who killed her. She did it herself.”_

_“She went after Scott McCall, the first beta.”_

_“She left me a letter before she took her own life. She detailed what happened, how Derek was responsible for her being bitten and how he went after her after she tried to kill Scott.”_

_“She tried to kill Derek and his sister, the Alpha, bit her. She tried to attack Laura Hale and Derek attacked her. She survived the attack and came to me.”_

_“Stiles, I am so sorry for not telling you the whole truth.”_

_“Stiles… Stiles… Stiles!”_

A sob tore from his throat, tears streamed down his face.

He thought of all his nightmares. All those sleepless nights.

He thought about his mother’s eyes, those pale grey eyes that looked at him and Allison with so much love.

He had always thought of how cold she must have felt, bleeding out from the bite wound Derek had inflicted. He had always thought about the pain his father must have felt as he lifted his arm and pulled the trigger, killing the one woman who he loved with everything in him.

It had all been a lie.

_“What about the Hale Fire, dad?”_

_“What… What does that have to do with your mother?”_

_“Were we here before? Were one of the Argent’s here the night the Hale house burned down?”_

_“Your Aunt and Grandfather but what does that—Stiles? Stiles!”_

He should have known.

He knew the method sounded familiar but he could never pinpoint where he had heard it. He could never figure out which Hunter stories resembles that same form of death.

But Derek words: _I hope your family rot’s in hell_ , had triggered a memory. Of a family dinner, his aunt Kate telling him about hunt she did a long time ago.

 _The wolves were breaking the code, they had to put down. Like the dogs that they are… It quick and easy… Like lighting a match_.

Stiles clenched his fists and slammed it against the steering wheel, his hand burning with pain but nothing hurt more than the agonizing pain he felt in his heart.

He ignored the wetness that seeped through his shirt, knowing he pulled his stitches but he didn’t care.

_He didn’t care._

His stomach turned and Stiles clamped a hand over his mouth, opening the car door roughly before he stumbled out.

He hunched over and vomited, the acidic bile rising and burning his throat.

He remained there, bend over until he was done, the energy completely drained from him. His head hurt and he felt cold and lifeless but Stiles forced those feelings away and straightened up so he could lean back against the car.

The icy wind dried his cheeks, his tears turning cold before drying up completely. He took in deep breaths, calming his entire body down, trying to clear his mind of the hurricane of emotions that raged within in.

And when the lifeless feeling possessed his entire being, he got in the car and drove back to his house.

His father was waiting for him but Stiles knocked his hand away when he tried to reach for him.

He glared at the man before him, letting his father see the damage he had caused and he made his way up the stairs.

He pulled out his duffel bag and started packing.

 

*

 

It took two days to get everything ready, to clear out his room and for him to shove down his pride and his fears, and take his Jeep out to the preserve.

His bags were all packed and were laying carelessly in the back given how hurriedly he had tossed them all in, refusing to look at his dad as he stood frozen in shock by the doorway.

Stiles will never be able to forget the look of completely and utter despair on his dad’s face when he saw Stiles throwing the bags in the Jeep.

They exchanged no words, no smile and no hug.

Stiles just got into the Jeep and drove away.

He stopped where he did a few months ago, parking in the same spot.

He felt anxious. Every cell in his body wanted him to turn around and continue driving but knew he needed to do this.

He felt empty and that feeling hadn’t dimmed or numbed him, instead it had steadily increased with each passing second.

He followed the same trail, only this time he didn’t appreciate the nature, he didn’t look around him. He just kept his eyes straight ahead, hoping and praying that he was there.

It felt like Deja-vu, only this time Stiles had no weapons on him and he knew exactly what he wanted to do.

He found the clearly easily and sighed with relief when he saw the familiar figure sitting on the ground, hunched over like he was the first time Stiles had found him.

His heart stopped and then thundered against his chest.

Derek jumped up the moment Stiles stepped through the archway. Spinning around, his eyes flashed blue, his canines elongated and grew as he growls at Stiles.

The Hunter froze in his step, his body tensing up for a fight but he stayed put, meeting Derek’s hateful gaze head on.

Stiles swallowed down his fear and raised his hands. “I’m not here to fight.”

“It won’t be much of a fight, I can guarantee you that.”

His words felt like a knife had been plunged Stiles' heart and he welcomed it. “You can kill me if you want. I probably deserve it for what my family did to yours.”

He gave him a sad, broken smirk. “Believe me I would do it if I were you… I was planning on doing it.”

Derek growled, but as he watched Stiles stand numbly before him, the rumble from his chest decreased as he slowly straightened up, his teeth retracted, pulling back to normal human teeth.

Stiles waited until his eyes dimmed, returning to their pale multi-colored orbs.

“I thought I told you to leave.” Derek growled at him.

Stiles glanced down and saw his fingers still had their claws.

Slowly, he took a cautious step towards him. Derek’s body went stiff but he doesn’t move. His muscles bulked up from beneath his Henley, taunt. Stiles noted the way the toe of his boots dug into the ground, ready to leap and attack if need be.

But Derek didn’t move an inch, refusing to show weakness to the enemy… because that’s what Stiles was _his enemy_.

“I am leaving.” Stiles found himself saying. “But before I go, I just need to know something.”

Derek scoffed. “You really think you’re in the position to ask for favors? _You_?”

“Maybe not, but I can guarantee you this, if you tell me what I need to know, this will be the last time you ever see me. The Argent’s will never bother the Hale’s ever again, not if I have anything to say about it. You can hear my heart beat so you know I am not lying.”

Derek’s eyes flickered down to his chest for a second, before his eyes slowly lifted them to Stiles, showcasing his disbelief.

Stiles took another step closer. “The night your family got burned alive, was it an Argent?”

Derek growled, taking a menacing step forward. “What the hell do you think?!”

His muscles strained against the force at which Stiles had to keep still, coiling tightly as he stood his ground. “I need to hear you say it.”

Derek’s lips curled as he spat the words out. “ _Yes_.”

Even though Stiles knew the truth, hearing his thoughts being confirmed felt like a punch in the gut.

He shut his eyes, forcing the nauseating feeling down.

He looked away for a second, willing the tears that were threatening to break out away.

“And why,” Stiles’ voice broke and he swallowed down the thick lump in his throat. “ _Why_ did you bite Victoria Argent?”

He turned his head at that, his whiskey eyes pained as he stared at Derek.

The werewolf jerked back at the question and slowly understanding washing over his face. He knew that look and his heart sank as the knowledge that Derek finally, _truly_ , knew who he was sunk in.

“Why did you _bite_ her?!” Stiles shouted, his voice deep and hard as the words were forced out from him.

He stepped closer to Derek, his eyes burning, blazing with pain and anger.

He was pissed off, at his father for lying to him, at his mother for manipulating him, at his family for being just like every other fucking hunting family there was, at Derek for biting his mother, at Laura for turning her, at Kate and his grandfather for starting all of this, for bringing this darkness and this tragedy into his and Allison’s life, for leaving _this_ as their legacy!

And at himself…

For being stupid enough to _fall in love_ with a goddamn werewolf.

As the thought struck him, instead of relief at finally admitting something that he had been denying since that night at Scott’s house, he felt pain and longing, because even now love was still inflicting pain on his family and no matter how strongly he felt, no matter what happened, he could never be able to expression that love and he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Derek Hale would never love him back.

“You are not going to blame this on me!” Derek shouted, his roaring voice pulling at Stiles’ bleeding heart as he pointed his finger at Stiles. “My family and I did nothing wrong. You people came after us all because we were werewolves! Your Aunt came, making false promises about peace and using me to get to my family. Scott did nothing and yet your mother came after him! Even after Laura warned her off she still came at us.”

His eyes turned neon-blue.

“I did what I had to do to protect _my pack_ , to protect _my sister_! I am not going to apologize for it and you and your family can go straight to hell.”

He was in Stiles’ face, shouting, his words laced fury and pure hatred.

Stiles felt that treacherous tear roll down his cheek and he let it.

His hands were shaking, his body was wound up and all he could do was stare at Derek.

_They did it._

_His family weren’t the heroes they made themselves out to be… they were the monsters they hunt._

“I’m sorry.” The words spilled from his lips, soft and barely audible. “Nothing I say can undo what they did and I wish I could go back and change it all.”

Derek let out a harsh breath through his nose.

Stiles blinked his tears away, clearing his expression even if his heart felt like it had been split in two and then dropped to the cold hard ground, shattering into thousands of pieces.

His body just wanted to break, to spill and let lose all these emotions that were whirling around within him but Stiles couldn’t falls apart.

He came here for a reason and he wasn’t leaving until he did it.

“My _family_ … will never be the cause of your pain, ever again.” He promised.

“Oh yeah? You think I’ll believe anything that comes out of a hunter’s mouth?” Derek growled.

Stiles shook his head mournfully. “No, I don’t.” He swallowed down the pain that enveloped his heart and soul. “But believe the man who has fallen for you when he says that he will make it his life’s mission to make sure the Argent’s will never spill innocent blood again. Supernatural or not.”

His voice remained steady as did his heart.

Stiles turned around then, leaving a shocked and frozen Derek.

He held onto his dignity, he drew strength from the Argent name, the name and the motto he and Allison now held.

No more would the dark, blackened name of the Argent Family taint the lives of everyone they touch.

He was the start of a new generation.


	9. Shouldn't Be Good In Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Final Chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end has arrived.
> 
> Big, massive ass Thanks to everyone who commented and who had left Kudos... You guys motivated me to continue posting so thanks so much.

The air in Paris was just as he remembered it.

Light and fresh.

He felt the heat of the sun on his skin, absorbing its rays, but as Stiles drove down the familiar road to Kate’s house, he found that he didn’t care about any of that.

He barely looked at anything as he passed the familiar sites, his eyes remained firmly locked on the road ahead.

No amount of sun or happy memories could calm the rage burning in the pit of his stomach, the fire that seemed to increase with every memory that came to him.

The dinners they shared together.

The proud smiles they wore.

He used to think that only people who had done so much good in this world had the right to smile that like but now that the truth had been revealed, now that he was no longer the victim of their deceit, he felt something grow inside him.

Something that scared him.

Stiles parked outside the modest two story house that he and Allison used to spend afternoons playing in and got out.

He always thought it looked so warm and welcoming but now all he saw was a mask that hid the monster that lived within.

He stalked to the door, his shoulders tensed and his eyes blazing behind his sunglasses. He stepped to the door and pounded his fist against it.

“Coming!”

Her voice sounded so sweet, so carefree.

The door opened and Stiles looked up, glaring into those deceitful eyes.

He clenched his jaw and shoved his fists into his thin red hoodie, feeling his body buzz with the barely contained aggressive that pound at his will, wanting to be set free.

As he stared at her, some small part of him looked deep into her green eyes, looking for that admirable Aunt who he looked up to. The badass Aunt who he told Allison he wanted to be like, only more manly.

A wide warm smile graced her face, lighting up her eyes as she stepped closer, her arms opening for an embrace. “Stiles, what are-“

“Touch me and I will break your fingers.” He spat.

Kate paused. The light in her eyes dimmed and Stiles watched with hatred as her nice, happy-go-lucky act dropped.

She raised her eyebrows at him and tilted her head to the side. Suddenly Stiles could see it, could see the cold, dark and twisted person that was hidden behind the green eyes, dark blonde hair and charming personality.

“Excuse me?”

Stiles pushed himself forward, careful not to touch to her.

He looked up and his eyes landed on his sister standing on the stairs. She was already dressed as per request and even though she looked calm, Stiles saw the worry in her tensed up body and her dark eyes.

It had been almost three months since he saw her and since then she had cut her hair. Gone were those long princess curls that she had promised to never cut and instead they are straightened and wavy, reaching her shoulders.

And that one notable change spiked that protective feeling within him as another woman came to mind.

Another woman who loved keeping her hair short as it was ‘badass’ and didn’t get in the way when hunting…

And she was standing right behind him.

“You got everything?” He asked Allison.

He wanted so much to close the small distance between them, to hug her tight and check if she was okay.

He wanted to look into her eyes and made sure she was still the girl he left here but he couldn’t.

He needed to get her out of this house as fast as possible.

Allison’s eyes flickered from him to their Aunt before she nodded. Without another word, she turned around and head back upstairs.

Stiles watched her for a second, waiting until she disappeared behind the corner before he turned to look at Kate who was standing in her small kitchenette behind the counter.

Slowly, he took off his sunglasses, revealing his dark hate-filled eyes. He narrowed them and as he shifted his body to face her, he felt the familiar weight of his knife around his calf in his boot.

“Is there a reason my own nephew just disrespected me in my own home? Or are you going through a teen angsty phase?” Kate asked, her voice humorous.

“Oh I’m sorry. Hi, Aunt Kate, how have you been? You know since you murdered a family of werewolves?”

He didn’t know what he expected but the smirk that formed on her lips was not it.

She set her shoulders back in that proud Argent manner, her eyes gleaming, her lips curling.

Stiles gritted his teeth, wanting to physically hurt her more than anything. To punch her. To yell at her but he couldn’t do anything of those thing.

Because as much as he wished it wasn’t true, she was still his blood.

“I knew it.” She said in a condescending tone. “I knew you’d feel for them.”

Kate moved forward, bringing her hands up to rest on the kitchen counter, leaning against it casually. “I mean, there was a high possibility that Allison would sympathize with those beasts but _you_ … I had better hopes for you but it seems I was mistaken.” She cocked her head to the side. “Who was it?”

Stiles glared at her.

“Scott McCall? Malia?” She asked and then as if she saw something in him, her eyes widened and the smirk grew on her lips. “Derek Hale?”

His gut tightened and he said nothing.

Upon hearing Derek’s name, flashes of memories invaded his thoughts.

His smile.

His pale green-grey eyes.

His deep laugh.

His broody expression.

His soft, down-turned lips.

He felt that familiar longing he had been trying to suppress with his anger rise up once more.

“Oh, Stiles…” She said with faux- sorrow. “Honey, did you fall for him? Is that it?”

His nails dug into the palm of his hands and Stiles’, with rage pulsing in his veins, took a menacing step forward, his mind and heart about family silent.

He was ready to hurt her, to grab her and scream at her to tell him how she could do such a thing and still be able to look at herself in the mirror--

“Stiles?”

The sweet voice pulled at him and for a moment the anger dissipated.

He looked up to see Allison on the stairs, her suitcase by her feet and a gym bag swung over her shoulder. Her eyes were hard, and Stiles could only guess she heard the majority of the conversation.

Kate spoke up. “Allison, honey, do you really what to go with him?”

Allison looked from Kate to Stiles, but Stiles could see the open faith and trust she held in her eyes when they landed on him.

Stiles walked over to her and grabbed her suitcase. “Let’s get you the hell out of here.”

She took a deep breath and nodded.

 

*

 

“I—I can’t believe it.” She said, her voice breaking near the end.

Stiles, with his fist clenched around the steering wheel of his Jeep, raised his eyebrows in confirmation.

They arrived in the US a few hours ago. They had to walk a few miles before they arrived at the station Stiles had stashed the Jeep and after paying the guy who had to look after it the promised amount, he and his sister had hit the road.

However, the moment they were on the road Stiles had felt this unbelievable desire to head to Cali, to head back to Beacon Hills. He found himself glancing in the review mirror, tempted to turn the Jeep around.

After getting Allison, Stiles had waited, bit his tongue until he and Allison felt France before he told her everything.

“Yeah, me neither.” Stiles sighed.

His twin sister, curled up in the passenger seat, turned to look at him.

Her eyes were brimmed with tears and her sharp jaw was clenched tight.

Stiles knew she wanted to call their father to be absolutely sure, to hear it from him but as much as he wanted nothing to do with his father, he couldn’t put the man through that.

To hear the disappointment from not one but both his children would kill him and… Chris Argent was still his dad.

“Hey,” Stiles said comfortingly, reaching over with one hand to grab his sister’s. “We are going to be alright. _Nous protégeous ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-memés… Famille dans le sang et la bataille.” (Family in blood and battle)_

Allison gave him a stiff nod and a heartbroken smile. The small squeeze of her hand comforted not only her but him too.

They didn’t say much the rest of the drive, the soft music playing in the background dulling the painful silence. The silence that reminded them that they were well and truly alone.

They had left everything they knew behind.

As much as Stiles knew that he and Allison would be all right, that they would have each other’s backs, he was… scared.

He was scared that in his rage altered mind, he had done something that in the end would get them both killed. That by turning his back on his family, he had set them on a path that let to their deaths.

They were young and if his plan didn’t pan out, then Stiles feared the outside world would tear them to pieces.

“So what now?” Allison asked soft.

Stiles stroked her hand. “Now… _Now_ we find a motel. I still got our fake ID’s. We get into bed and then tomorrow we hit the road and head to Kansas.”

“What’s in Kansas?”

Stiles paused, his heart spiking.

He licked his lips and hesitantly turned to Allison. “People, two brothers, that has agreed to help us.”

Understanding dawned on Allison’s face.

 

*

 

Stiles laid in bed, the stiff mattress was uncomfortable and even if they were using Allison’s blanket, he still felt like his skin was crawling.

He lay burdened in the dark, his mind refusing to stay silent long enough for him to fall unconscious.

His heart, sombre and heavy, urged him to get up, reminding him that a part of it was missing, left behind in Beacon Hills with the one guy who didn’t want it.

Allison was fast asleep next to him, curled up into a ball, her forehead pressed against his shoulder, her hand wound around his arm, holding it.

Dropping his head to the side to look to the bedside clock, he saw that it was well past 2AM.

Shaking his head, Stiles slowly rose from the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. His sister stirred at the movement and Stiles froze. He turned and watched the hand that had been holding his arm, curl within itself before she slipped back to sleep.

She looked so vulnerable, her face void of any negative thoughts.

Gone was her tightened features and in its place was a calm, peaceful expression. She hadn’t said anything when they got their room.

She just went to the bathroom to change leaving Stiles do the same. He had asked if she wanted to talk about it but she had just crawled into bed and hugged his sides.

“No, I just need my big brother.” She had said.

Anxiously, Stiles reached into his jacket and pulled out his cell phone.

As he made his made his way to the door, he glanced behind him, drawing some strength from his sister’s serene expression. He stepped out, the cold air biting against his skin but he’s hardly bothered by it.

His heart pounded against his sternum and Stiles, with shaky hands, scrolled through his contacts.

He stopped at the name, hesitating before he swallowed down his fear and pressed call.

He stared at it for a second and with one final courageous breathe he lifted the cellular device to his ear.

“ _You have reached Derek Hale. Leave a message._ ”

His eyes fell shut as the deep voice rang through his ear, running through his entire body, chilling it and warming it simultaneously.

Clearing his throat, he spoke. “Hey, uh, it’s Stiles. I don’t know if you ignored my call or if you’re still asleep… Anyway, I just wanted to call you, tell you that… to tell you that I am sorry.” His throat tightened. “I don’t know what else to say but I pray to God you can hear my heartbeat through this phone when I tell you I am _sorry_. I am sorry for everything I did. For everything that happened. For everything my family has done to you. For everything I—“

His voice broke off and Stiles clenched his jaw in pain, feeling the tears that he had been holding in finally spill out, tumbling down his cheeks.

He shut his eyes, hoping they would stop but they kept flowing, his will power overpowered by the raging emotions that had been caged within him since he found out the truth-- no, since the kiss.

Stiles took a deep breath.

He needed to do this.

He needed to get this out once and for all, because for him to do as he had promised, he couldn’t hold onto this.

He didn’t know if Derek will get this message, but knowing that he left it, that Derek knew the truth or had access to the truth put him at ease. Not because it would make him sleep better at night, that was something he knew will not be happening for weeks, but because it would put Derek at ease in some way.

Or so he hoped.

“I came to Beacon Hills to do one thing and one thing only that that was to kill the monster that murdered my mother. To do to him what he did to me. And I thought I’d succeed. I thought, ‘how hard could it be?’ And then… I took a stroll in the woods and met a guy. A normal, angry, _rude_ guy. And I talked to him and I saw that even though he was different, even though everything in me knew who he truly was… He was still… normal.”

Stiles bit down on his lip and ducked his head, holding onto the phone for dear life.

“And then I got to spend some more time with him and with his friends and I did something I didn’t even think was possible… I fell for him. I fell for a guy who laughed with his family, who bitched at his friends and who… who was responsible for my mother’s murder. That night in the woods, you told me what happened to your family and you told me what we did you to… And you… you kissed me.”

Even if he was miles away from Derek, even if he hadn’t seen him in days, even if the cold air was biting against his exposed skin, Stiles could still feel the soft brush of Derek’s lips. The soft caress and the warmth that followed after that one kiss.

Clearing his throat, Stiles shook his head.

That chapter in his life was over. He had to- he _needed_ to let it go.

He owed it to Derek to keep his promise and to do so…. He had to say good-bye to the boy he was before.

“You’re never gonna see me again. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. All I want is for you to know… that I—that after everything that happened and everything that I did… I really did love you. That is the one truth in this fucked up story.”

He waited. For what he didn’t know.

With disappointment numbing his body and his heart shattering to pieces, he forced the words to leave his mouth.

“Goodbye, Derek.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sequel is out :

'RESCUE ME'


End file.
